


Mummy Dearest

by vivaforever597



Category: Clue | Cluedo (Board Game), Clue | Cluedo - All Media Types
Genre: Comedy, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:36:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5433362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivaforever597/pseuds/vivaforever597
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most actors don't have to handle their overreaching socialite mothers as their neighbours. Miss Scarlett envies them. (Set in the Clue FX-era continuity.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mummy Dearest

**Author's Note:**

> In keeping with the setting, I'm using British punctuation and spelling, hence Miss _Scarlett_ (the spelling in the British version of the game).
> 
> I didn't realize until I wrote this that I envision Peacock as speaking almost exclusively in exclamation points.

Patricia Peacock whisked into the vestibule of her daughter's small home — too small, she thought; one could never keep up appearances with a house this size! She hadn't knocked, of course. She never did. "Josephine!" she called brightly, as the breeze she'd stirred around herself settled down, the feathers of her hat and clothing falling precisely back into place. "It's your mother!"

Several yards away, Josephine Scarlett groaned into her pillow.  _What is it now?_  she wondered. Her mother had always kept a bit too close for comfort, even during Josephine's days at university. It was only worse having her as a neighbour. But she'd been especially bad lately: if she wasn't pestering Josephine to put on a one-off show for one of her charity events, she was telling her about just how to keep her lawn manicured, or asking why she hadn't thrown any parties recently, or telling her just how important it was to find a man before she was too old.

None of which were bad, in and of themselves. Josephine loved acting, and she adored the attention that came from it. Though her mum had never quite grasped the difference between an actress and a producer. And she loved high society and everything that came with it, though her idea of landscaping was rather different from her mother's older ideals. She did love a good party, that was true, most especially one where she could be the center of attention, but organizing one herself was so  _draining_. And she certainly did love men. Oh, there was no doubt about that. The trouble was loving them for more than a day or two. Peter Plum was the only one who had ever managed to come even slightly close, and he was hardly marriage material. More of an adorable pet she liked to play with for an hour at a time.

She considered not responding to her mother's calls, and in fact making no noise at all, to give the impression she was out. In fact, she had almost made up her mind to do so when there was a banging on the bedroom door. "Josephine, dear, I know you're in there!" Patricia called. "Far too early for  _you_ to be out and about!" She chuckled at her own clever observation, though it was hardly as clever as she thought. "Time to rise and greet the day, my sweet!"

Josephine scowled at the closed door, then sighed and threw the blankets from her. She strode to the mirror to confirm she looked as immaculate as ever, her long, dark hair pleasantly tousled from the night's sleep and her nightgown almost unwrinkled. Perhaps it showed a bit more skin than her mother needed to see, but if she wanted her daughter to find a man, well, there were things she'd just have to handle, weren't there? Finally, with one last sigh of regret, she stepped to the door and opened it to see Patricia, beaming as brightly as ever.

"Good morning, my darling! Ah, so late, and you're still undressed? Those lessons I sent you for must not have taken hold!" She patted Josephine's arm playfully, but the frustration in her voice was hard to miss.

"It's 9 o'clock, Mother," Josephine said, trying not to grit her teeth. "Not early at all on theatre time."

"Ah!" Patricia snorted, leaving her near-trademark "Fiddle-faddle!" unsaid. "But you're living among high society now, my dear! We must keep up with our peers if we are to leave our mark!"

Josephine considered reminding her mum that she was up so early less to keep up with their neighbours, and more because she herself had trouble sleeping, but decided it was a losing battle.

"Now then" — Patricia grabbed her daughter's wrist with a surprisingly strong hold — "we must discuss the month ahead of us. So much to do, you know! A garden party at Meadow-Brook's, another soirée at Boddy's... oh, so many opportunities, Josephine! I don't know what I shall make of it if you can't find a suitable mate somehow." She led the way to the living room, practically dragging Josephine behind her. "Come, Josephine, let's have a seat and discuss our battle plans. Oh, these pillows are so delightful! Real Indian cloth, you know."

"I know, Mum." Josephine smiled tightly. "This is my house."

"Oh. Oh, of course!" Patricia laughed lightly, as if Josephine had told some wonderful joke she didn't quite understand. "But anyway, my darling, dear Miles' garden party..."

Josephine ignored her as she continued on, rambling about people and events Josephine could barely bring herself to care about. She caught a few clichéd phrases here and there: "everyone and anyone," "belle of the ball," "toast of the village" ... until she heard "break a leg" or "take a bow," she thought, she'd continue nodding while half-listening, occupying herself with daydreams of turning the village into a mecca for the theatre, with herself at the centre, of course.

"... wouldn't you say, my dear?" Patricia finished.

Josephine smiled. "Of course, Mum. Of course." She rose from her seat. "I'm parched — cup of tea, Mum?" She'd even resist the urge to poison it.


End file.
